Wolfie 💌

TW: body image issues, loneliness, complexes, etc.

Hi everyone. I’ve been thinking about coming up here and just venting everything. Like genuinely just purge all the bad and the ugly that’s been on my mind.

I hadn’t been wanting to talk about because I genuinely didn’t think this belonged here. I think sometimes I forget this is genuinely my blog, and I’m allowed to post things that are personal (whether good or bad) and not related to Stray Kids.

I’m sure a lot of this I’ve said before in similar posts, but here I go.

I’ve been pretty lonely lately. I know I have friends and family, but they all have someone and it feels like I’m always the last choice. I’ve tried hard to learn to be alone, in fact, I’ve done life alone for years.

But I crave love. I crave someone who wants to be with me 24/7 and will never want to let me go, and that sees all the ugly and still chooses to stay.

Because I’m so tired of handling everything alone. I’m tired of having to learn to be alone. And so I got another job, which I do love, and I also signed up for the gym. But none of these things fix anything inside me.

My body image issues don’t go away just because I train, I don’t feel less lonely just because I’m busy all the time.

And I understand the hows and whys for everything I feel and everything I am. Insight has never been a problem, because I wish I could be so smart that I could fix all my problems. But the truth is I just become obsessive and don’t fix anything. I can never fix anything.

I still want to be ridiculously skinny, borderline sick, and I want to hurt all my friends for making feel so unimportant and lonely. And I’m so envious, I want all of their lives, all because I want to have someone.

I don’t dream of fancy dinners or expensive gifts. I dream of having a chest to lie on at night, somebody to hold me, someone to acknowledge how hard it’s been and how good I’ve managed.

And yet, I find everything with me so wrong. Like how could somebody ever fall in love with someone so broken and insecure? And I’m tired of the “you gotta love yourself first” narrative.

I’m so, so tired of it all.

And I haven’t posted because I feel so sour. I wrote fics because Iived through them. They soothed the ache in me. But I can’t anymore. They’ve all become repetitive, the same reader collapses and Chan holds her and chooses to stay. And I think that says a lot about me at the moment.

I’ve never wanted to make this blog an obligation, hence why I haven’t posted. Because I hold so much love for this place that I rather not disappoint you.

I feel like a fraud. Nothing I write is real. And I get it, that’s literally what fiction is. But it’s just all so meh to me lately.

It feels like I’m genuinely just trying to survive each day as it goes but I keep dragging all these demons that never go away.

I hate myself so much and that feels so unfair. It feels pathetic. I’ve just reached my limit. I wish I could just throw a tantrum or cry all day, or just lie on the floor and let time go by.

I’m so overwhelmed, my thoughts don’t feel like they have any relation to each other. Like I’m just putting pieces of different stuff together and hoping it’ll make sense.

I wish life would give me a break, I wish I could be kinder to myself. I wish people would miss me. I wish I didn’t cry every night. I wish my heart didn’t feel so heavy.

I wish I had someone. I wish I was perfect. Skinny, pretty, likeable. I wish someone showed interest in me.

I wish I was good.

TLDR ; Life sucks lately I wanna crash out and collapse.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ WORD COUNT: 0.8k

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CW: Heavy crying, light mentions of SH, comfort, no happy ending.

『 ↳✧･ﾟA/N: BIG TRIGGER WARNING. Sorry for being away.

The apartment felt unnaturally quiet.

He left his shoes right by the door. His bag on the couch as he settled in. Called out your name with no response. Odd.

You always welcomed him home, so when you didn't, naturally, he went looking for you to the bedroom. That's when he heard it. Desperate sobs. Really broken ones.

He had always been so protective and caring, so he immediately rushed in, but he didn’t expect the scene.

You paced the room with frantic, uneven steps, sobbing so hard you could barely breathe. Like your body no longer knew how to stop.

“baby girl?” he said rather scared.

He knew you hid this from him. You’d only mentioned it in passing before. Saying your mind got complicated sometimes. But he’d never actually seen it. He had never, in three years of dating, one of living together, seen you like this.

i love journaling and it gives me peace despite how bad i am at doodling and lettering

Happy 3000+ days to Stray Kids!! Hope they know they’re very appreciated and make me so very happy🫶🏻

I don’t think people understand how lonely I feel. I have friends and family but their lives constantly feel too busy for me.

I don’t know who to talk about it, because the few times I’ve tried bringing it up, I got called desperate.

Is it desperate to want mutual presence?

I keep trying to enjoy being alone. I have two jobs, I spent my only day off either writing for this blog, or following up with my other hobbies. I keep trying to stay busy and function my way out of feelings, but the truth is it’s getting really heavy.

My friends atm are also constantly busy with their partners which leaves me in this in between state of either chasing their attention or just waiting around for whenever they remember me.

I’ve also started having this toxic mentality that only a boyfriend will fix this, when I know that is not true. But when it’s everyone else treating their partners like that, when it’s all I know, I can’t help but wonder.

I keep crying myself to sleep lately. My nails always trying to dig into where my heart aches the most. Fists constantly punishing my so intellectual mind. Always trying to understand, comprehend. As if everything I know will magically solve anything.

I hate having so much love to give, but no one to receive it. I hate trying to convince myself that I’m fine by just pouring it into my job, my hobbies. But honestly it’s not enough anymore.

I also wonder what’s so wrong with me that no one chooses me after that situationship. My first and only heartbreak.

Before him I didn’t need love. I wasn’t looking for it. He approached me, he asked me out, and then used me to be discarded.

I’m just so so tired of being alone. Of functioning alone. And all this sadness turns into anger and I want to disappear from everyone’s lives. I want to call out my stupid friends for always making me feel like I’m not important in their lives.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ SUMMARY: You can't outrun feelings.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ WORD COUNT: 1.03k

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CW: Friends to lovers???, idol!Chan. Overworked reader, breakdown, confessions, etc. Chan referred to as Chris.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ A/N: Very, very self indulgent. Wondering what else to do to stay even more busy and outrun my own feelings. Lowkey shoutout to my favorite little Korean spot in my city.

(pictures are not mine. Credits to their respective owners!)

Chris had always been kind and gentle. It was his essence to be a true gentleman.

It was very heartwarming, at first. Then, it was platonic, like an older brother sort of thing, once you grew close. But with time, feelings dug deep. Wove themselves into the roots of the friendship you had for years.

Maybe that’s why none of you said anything. Just let it be what it had to be.

Lingering around each other, fleeting glances, a touch on the shoulder here, a giddy smile there. Just small things that meant everything or nothing. No explanation needed.

OMG HII!!

STRAY KIDS — Bang Chan

『 ↳✧･ﾟ SUMMARY: You probably should be more careful around Chan's work.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ WORD COUNT: k

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CW: Established relationship, reasonably frustrated!Chan. Happy ending obvi.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ A/N: This is lowkey canon for me. Thanks anon for the plot. Hope u like<3

(pictures are not mine. Credits to their respective owners!)

It wasn't odd for you to pick up the metallic device and use it yourself. Chan knew how to share, especially with you, his girlfriend of almost three years. Sure, it was his computer, a silver macbook he carried everywhere. But when he was at home and didn't use it, sometimes you used it for your meaningless stuff: looking up recipes, going on social media, watching a movie...

Today was no different. You sat on the couch and brought the slim device onto your lap. Opened it, typed in the passcode Chris had shared with you about a year ago.

A tab was open.

You didn't think much of it. Barely glanced at the screen before exiting automatically. Then you opened the browser. A recipe blog loaded onto the screen. You stared at it for maybe five seconds before your stomach tightened suddenly. Wait. Your hand stilled over the trackpad. Slowly, your eyes drifted toward the little icon at the bottom of the screen.

Had that been? Cubase? No.

Quickly, you clicked back into the program, stomach sinking before it had even fully loaded.

No. You were always careful about Cubase. Chan had specifically asked you to when he first started sharing his laptop with you.

A blank screen welcomed you. Had a project been there before? It was probably saved somewhere. It had to be. Chan had copies of copies of drafts and finished songs.

You stared at the screen, suddenly too scared to touch anything else in fear of making it worse.

"Baby?" You called out carefully.

He'd been in the bedroom for a bit. Headed straight for the shower after coming home from the gym. "Yeah?" You head him yell out.

"Uh, could you come here for a sec?"

You heard movement from the bedroom; your anxiety making you hyperaware. The sound of his feet, bare on the floor as he took heavy steps to you. He smiled when he found you; his natural reaction to you, then he leaned to see in the computer. He'd assumed you had an insignificant problem, some little thing you didn't know how to fix. Chan wasn't an expert, but he was savvy enough.

Then he saw it.

The program open on a new project. The same way it did when it loaded back open. He froze for a second. Then, he understood.

He removed the device from you quietly, grabbing it recklessly from the upper part of the screen.

"Y-you... have a copy, right?" You asked in a small voice. Scared.

Chan breathed, didn't reply. You didn't press either. Terrified to find out just how angry he was. If he was angry, for you couldn't read his expression.

He messed with it for a while, then dropped the metallic device on the coffee table. "Please don't touch anything," he murmured, almost grumbled as he walked away.

You sat there like a scolded child. Small and quiet. The guilt seeping into your bones, trying to convince yourself these things happened. But your mind wasn't as kind.

You froze when you heard grumbles exchanged in the bedroom. On the phone, he seemed to be. Time seemed to stretch before he came back. Jaw tight, eyes darkened. Clearly frustrated.

"It's okay." He reassured, even if his voice didn't sound too gentle. "I'm not mad."

Chan knew how fragile your heart was. Childhood trauma. He knew he needed tact with certain things, and this was one of them.

"I'm sorry," you spoke. "I didn't see... I thought—"

"Stop, Y/N." he sighed. "Please."

He sounded irritated. For you, in your sensitive, hyperaware mind, he did.

And maybe he was.

Your eyes burned as you looked down at your hands twisting together in your lap. “I said I was sorry.”

Chan dragged a hand over his face immediately after you spoke, regret flashing through his expression. “I know,” he muttered.

The apartment fell quiet again except for the muffled sound of traffic outside and the buzzing in your ears.

You hated this feeling. The waiting. The tension. Trying to figure out if someone was angry before they finally admitted it.

Chan noticed the exact second you started retreating into yourself. Shoulders curled inward, eyes avoiding his, body small against the couch cushions.

“Hey.” Softer this time. “Baby, c’mere.”

“I don’t wanna make it worse.” you admitted without looking up.

That made his heart ache, because suddenly this wasn’t about a corrupted project anymore. It was about you sitting there terrified over an accident. Like you used to when you were a child.

Chan closed his eyes briefly before crouching in front of the couch. “You didn’t ruin anything, okay?” He said carefully. “The file’s probably recoverable, I'm sure Bin has a copy somewhere. I was just... frustrated because I thought I lost hours of work, okay?” You finally glanced at him then, uncertain. “I’m not mad at you.”

Your voice came out quiet. “You sounded mad.”

“I know.” His shoulders dropped. He reached for your hands slowly, cradling you like you could shatter. Like you were precious. “I wasn’t trying to scare you, baby.”

And the tears came.

They gathered in your eyes and finally spilled over, more from relief than anything else.

Chan’s face softened immediately. “Baby girl…” Before you could hide your face, he pulled you forward into him, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he pressed his cheek against your head.

“It’s okay, I'm sorry.” he murmured quietly. “Computer’s replaceable. Files are replaceable. I'm sorry. Everything's okay.” He insisted softly.

You cried for a bit before you pulled back to dry your tears.

"Accidents happen?" He asked softly while looking for your eyes.

"Accidents happen." You nodded.